About the Lithograph:
Over a century has now come and gone since the erection of the Morris Island Lighthouse, and the face of Morris Island has changed. All that remains of the Morris Island Lighthouse Station that stood on solid ground is the empty tube of a tower occupied by the rumbling sounds of the ocean pounding relentlessly upon its foundations. The home, utility buildings, and outbuildings were demolished; and all that remains has been quietly buried in a watery grave beneath the Atlantic Ocean. The light is gone from its tower; the automatic light on Sullivan's Island has taken over its role. The Morris Island Lighthouse no longer beams into the emptiness of the ocean's horizon, but instead itself fills a spot in that empty horizon as a brick and white tower that has defied the elements, the northeastern storms, the hurricanes, and the changing landscape of a fragile coast. Surrounded by water, seemingly impervious to the weather, and a defender against numerous adversities, the Morris Island Lighthouse is simply proud defiance. Not even the intense power of the wall of Hugo's eye, with its pounding storm surge, was powerful enough to whip her.